18 Weeks
by ladybirdington
Summary: An exercise in discretion...you know, if anyone on the show were discrete. HouseCam. OOCish.
1. Prologue

Title: 18 Weeks

Author: MissElise

Rating: Teens only, because when your twelve...you just aren't ready yet.

Summary: Honesty is always the best policy, especially when paired with some innocent seduction.

A/N: This was written during the long House-less summer months, found, reworked, and presented for your reading pleasure. I really like it. I even read this one.

Introduction:

She cornered him early one morning, before anyone else had arrived. His back was to her, and as she approached and poured herself a cup of coffee he said nothing. She leaned back against the counter, stirring distractedly. "I have a question."

"No, I will not sleep with you. Even if you cover clinic hours for me. Well, on second thought..." He winked at her and gave a cheeky grin.

"Do you really think those things about me? What you said, last week at dinner. Do you really believe what you said, or were you just trying to come up with a defense strategy."

He looked away, and when he met her gaze again all of the prodding humor had left his face. "I'm the last one to admit when I've been an ass. That said, I was an ass. I shouldn't have said those things. At least not until after dinner. But I believe them, if that's what you want to know."

Cameron nodded. Neither spoke for what seemed like minutes. Finally, she spoke. "I thought I was going to spend my life with him. We were engaged before the diagnosis. What are the chances of a oncology major dying of cancer in med school?" She bit her lip. "Anyway, we had already set a date, and we went along as planned, but after the wedding we found out it had metastacized. After several failed attempts at chemo, we realized there was nothing to be done. He came home to die." She stopped, her breath catching and voice failing her.

"We had eight real months together as husband and wife. They were perfect months. He wasn't in the hospital, dying. He was with me, living."

"Cameron..."

"NO. Let me finish. I wasn't trying to fix him," she bit out through her watering eyes. "I was savoring every last second I had with him. And I didn't marry him because I felt some misguided sense of duty and wanted to make his last days happy, I did it because when I said yes to him I hadn't taken the vows yet, but I meant in sickness and in health I'd be with him. If I hadn't kept my promise I would have been abandoning him, and I don't give up on the people I love."

He stared into her tear-brimmed eyes. She was so full. Full of passion and love and feeling. What could she want from an empty shell?

"I don't care if you think I'm an emotional little girl, but don't accuse me of taking charity cases to my bed."

She set her mug down a little violently, sloshing coffee over the edges. "I can't, I can't keep throwing myself in your path hoping you'll stop and pick me up. I'm tired of it. So I'm trying a new approach. Blatant honesty. So try this on for size," she crossed the distance between them and stood so close she could feel the heat of his breath. Covering his hand with her own she continued, " I think you are incredibly sexy, and I think it's even sexier that you don't even know it. I love your sense of humor, your eyes, your taste in music...I just love you. And it kills me to see you walled away behind excuses and pain, not because I want to fix you, but because people in love should want to give everything to that other person. How can you take anything I have to offer when you won't even talk to me?"

She ended her tirade with a sigh and a look of expectation. He looked defeated, and tired. "I know what you'd like me to say. It'd be real swell if we could just go ahead and start dating. Share an apartment and play house? Get a dog together, walks in the park, weekend trips to the Cape? That kind of thing?"

"I know you too well to expect anything conventional from you," she smiled at him through hopeful eyes.

"Yea, well, there's something attractive about nice, healthy conventional relationships. Why not just get one of those? Chase is seeking you out desperately. Even Foreman could be convinced. If you'd like a challenge, Wilson's marriage is on the rocks."

"Be serious. I'm talking about us."

"So am I. Why the hell would you pick me over someone who you could just be with? Throw on your little his and hers iPods and go jogging? Get dressed up and go dancing with? Why this?"

"Why not?"

"No, I'm talking about..."

"No, I know what you mean. Is that all your worried about? My alternatives and how they stack up to you? Your stupid leg? So you can't run around or win a dance off. I can't dance anyway, I have terrible coordination. And I hate running."

"Well, there's also the problem of us making out around Cuddy. You know she's a jealous mistress. And then there's the other ducklings. How can I not pick favorites when one of you comes home with me every night?"

"So at work, we keep everything separate. And as secretive as possible, as long as possible."

"Your family will hate me. They'll think I'm too old for you."

"That's a stretch, even you know you're running out of excuses."

"We'll hate it. You'll want things that I can't give and we'll start bickering. Over kids, living arrangements, work, who's turn it is to do the dishes."

She rewarded his valiant attempts with a mischievous smile, and snuck her arm under his jacket, resting her hand on his back. He was toned, and warm, and he smelled great. Oh she wished they were somewhere more private.

"Allison...stop." Even he didn't believe himself.

"Why? Convince me that you don't want this. Give me one, monumental reason why you won't let me in," at his silence she went on. "Please trust me? I never want to hurt you. I would never betray you. I only want what you'll give me."

Her closeness was making him heady. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to kiss her. He settled on just wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and breathed him in. He smelled like a warm bed on a Saturday morning, with a hint of cinnamon and cigar smoke. She kissed him, a small, unassuming kiss below his ear, his pulse beat rapidly under her lips.

Just then, they heard the familiar swoosh of the office door opening. Cameron jumped back and whirled around to face the counter, busying herself with the coffee pot. House just glared at the intrusion. It was Wilson, a very surprised Wilson.

"No, no, no, no! Ignore me! I never came in! Go back to what you were doing! Do more of it!" With that, he spun around and sped back towards the oncology ward, leaving the two staring anywhere but at each other.

She let out a very unladylike snort of laughter. "You might be right about the work thing."

"What, four more months of your fellowship?"

"Eighteen weeks. I counted. I knew the deadline for seducing you was approaching," she chuckled, "Eighteen weeks is a long time."

He let out a groan. "Well, at least if we're going to make out in a hospital full of glass walls, we should wait until someone good's around to see it."

She carefully tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and turned to face him. "So, does that mean this is a go?"

"Trial run, _trial run_. The minute I find little pink hearts all over lab results, you're ass is to the curb."

"So, that's it?"

"I suppose. Has hell frozen over? Should I grab my ice skates?"

"I just expected it to be a lot harder to convince you my intentions were noble."

"Oh don't kid yourself. You know you're just going to use me for sex."

Hmm, she thought, the idea has merit.

Judging by the look on her face at that last comment, it was probably best that Foreman arrived just then, followed closely by Chase.

"What's on the agenda for today?" Chase inquired cheerily.

"I'm covering clinic hours for Dr. House," she said innocently, "You know where to find me if you need anything." With a wink only he could see, she was out the door and sauntering down the hallway.

It was going to be a very long 18 weeks.


	2. Week 1

A/N: This week' episode was perfectly devoid of Stacy and _finally_ had the House/Cam bike scene we all knew was coming! Oh don't deny it, you all knew the minute he bought the damn thing they'd both be on it eventually. Thank god for that, and thank god for House in a leather jacket, on a motorcycle, wrapping her arms around his waist. Jeez...I practically needed a cold shower after that one, I don't know how Jennifer got through it.

Week 1:

Like any other week, Monday through Thursday were absolute drudgery. Nothing new to bait Stacy with, Cuddy hadn't worn anything particularly slutty, Wilson hadn't even philandered more than usual.

The only thing there was to do for any fun was watch Cameron.

They hadn't really spoken since Monday morning when she cornered him and he folded like a trapped animal. They hadn't laid any groundwork or set any rules or even decided where to go from there. House resorted to his usual coward self and waited for her to make the first move. Again.

The only thing different on his end was that he found it harder to be snide and rude to her. She wasn't even giving him the benefit of exasperation and annoyance. Now, his remarks were met with a playful eye roll or smiling sigh.

On Friday morning, she was the first one in as usual. As he sat in his office, mindlessly returning emails from potential patients, declining most, reading over a few, he glanced over at her a few times through the glass. He watched her drop her stuff by her desk and pull out her laptop, plugging it in and pulling off her scarf. He caught bits and pieces of her flurry of activity while trying to maintain an appearance of disinterest.

The problem lay in the fact that he wasn't sure what the next eighteen weeks were for. Had she meant that they had to hold off on anything until after she wasn't technically an employee? That they only had eighteen weeks before she moved on with her life? Or that they had eighteen weeks of being discreet?

Stupid ambiguous relationship talks.

So he was playing chicken, until he knew otherwise.

His thoughts were broken by the swish of his office door opening as she backed in, a cup of coffee in each hand. She sat them both down on his desk, with a cheery "Good Morning."

He took his cup from her outstretched arm. "Thank you, _Allison_," he threw a little sarcastically.

"Your welcome, _Gregory_," she snapped right back. She took a sip and grabbed the stack of mail off his desk. She sat back and crossed her legs, relaxing into the plush chair. "Any idea when you're gonna wake up and ask me out?"

He was sure she had planned to ask him this just as he took a sip of coffee. He swallowed. Hard.

"Well, I assumed eighteen weeks from now. Or I guess seventeen and a half."

She rolled her eyes. "I meant eighteen weeks as in eighteen weeks of keeping it quiet."

Oh. Well, that might have been good to know.

"In that case, we'll start having sex right now. Meet me in the janitor's closet in five."

"Or tonight." She rolled his eyes at his expression. "A date. Or whatever. We won't have dinner, because you clearly suck at keeping conversation light. We'll see a movie. Something stupid, so we can talk through it and be annoying. We'll eat popcorn and tons of junk food and we'll have...what's that called again? Fun?"

"Is that what you kids are calling it these days?"

"You can't start dating someone and not have a movie date. It's like, a rule. And I know you and rules, but unless you have a better idea, I say we catch the 7:30."

"Can I propose a night of body shots and beer pong?"

She smiled. "Maybe next time. What do you say?"

He couldn't think of anything snarky to say, so he agreed, and the rest of the day was hell. He could deal with a flirtatious and forward Cameron, but when the others were around, she acted like nothing was going on. The only time he saw a hint of the vixen in her was during a brainstorm session, when he caught her staring at him and chewing on the end of her pencil. She winked at him conspiratorially and went back to jotting something down on the patient's chart.

She wasn't cutting him any slack.

At the end of the day she stopped by his office to drop off lab results.

"Movie's at 7:30, pick me up at 7:00?"

He nodded, distractedly. "Don't wear a skirt. We're taking my bike."

She bit back a smile at the prospect of riding on the back of a motorcycle, straddling him for the fifteen minute drive.

"Sounds good to me. See you then."

House decided that it would really be a date. He wasn't going to talk to Wilson about it, wasn't going to over think it or analyze it. He would go home, get ready, and go. As simple as that. No stuffy dinners, no worrying, no craziness.

He didn't wear a tie, he wore a concert t-shirt from years ago, and a blue blazer over jeans. He popped a Vicodin before he left and made sure his bed was made and no dirty laundry was floating around. Just in case...well, just in case. He resisted the urge to have a whiskey to calm his nerves, knowing if he crashed, it would probably ruin the mood.

He pulled up in front of her apartment at 6:58. Cameron was on the porch of her apartment complex, talking to an elderly woman. When he pulled up, he gunned the engine just for effect. He watched as she came down the steps, while the woman eyed him and the bike suspiciously.

She swung a jean-clad leg over the bike and slid on, pulled his spare helmet over her head. She tentatively put her hands at his waist.

"Well you can be polite and fall off, but in the end, it might be smarter to just hold on tight."

She laughed and did just that, snaking her arms around him and holding him fast. He gave it gas and they were gone.

It was exhilarating, and not just because of the speed. Being this close to him, she just hoped she wasn't going to lose her cool and get all flustered around him. It was thankfully and regretfully a short trip. At the theater, he scoffed when she pulled out her wallet, muttering something about woman's liberation.

"I can't believe we're seeing a movie about penguins."

"I told you, if we see a serious movie, we'll actually watch the movie. This way, we can just talk through it. Otherwise, what's the point of going to the movies as a date? Sitting in a dark room not speaking to each other?"

He had to agree that she had a point. They bought popcorn and candy and found seats in the back. While waiting for the previews, Cameron was unsettled to know that House knew the answers to more celebrity trivia questions than she did.

Some woman kept talking on her cell phone after the previews started.

Cameron smirked and stage whispered, "I'll bet you I can hit her square in the head with a Starburst."

He chuckled, surprised at her. "What are the terms?"

She thought a moment. "If I can hit her, you have to play for me one day."

She'd been to his apartment, seen his piano, no use denying he could play. Meanwhile, the woman was still chatting away, laughing shrilly. He winced. "Hit her on your first try and I'll sing for you, too."

She smiled, pleased at the deal. Looking around for witnesses, she pulled an orange Starburst out of the bag and wound up. The only verb House could think to describe the throw was chucking. Cameron chucked it at the woman, hitting her in the back of her head with a thud. Two teenagers behind them started laughing as Cameron sat nonchalantly back in her seat and grabbed some popcorn for cover. The woman stood up angrily, scanning the crowd for a suspect, skipping right over the respectable looking brunette. She glared at the giggling teenagers and sat back down to say goodbye to whoever was on the phone. House watched it all with an amused smile.

"Touchdown."

"Nice shot."

The movie started, Morgan Freeman's smooth voice filtering through the theater's sound system. The film actually sucked them in. At one point, the sight of a dead infant penguin made Cameron tear up. She brushed away a tear, hoping he wouldn't catch the motion, but he did.

"Please tell me you did not just do what I think you just did."

"Shut up," she whispered back, grinning at herself.

At a few boring parts they resorted to throwing popcorn in the air and catching it in their mouths. House started keeping score. He won. When he declared himself winner she threw a piece at him, that hit him right in his eye.

"You've blinded me!" She was giggling uncontrollably. "I can't see!" He whispered loudly.

Luckily, the only people close enough to be bothered by their antics were the teenagers behind them, who had given up on the movie and started making out before the opening credits were over.

At some point, her head ended up on his shoulder. She wasn't even sure when it happened. She distinctly remembered wondering if House would be as devoted a husband and father as the father penguins.

She whispered in his ear, "I'm gonna go get some more popcorn, you want something?"

"See if they sell condoms, I think this date is going _really _well."

She sighed, "So, nothing?"

"Ouch. Get more snowcaps."

She stood in line, and suddenly heard a familiar voice. Wilson and a woman stepped up in line behind her. He was telling the woman about a patient from that week.

"Dr. Cameron?"

She spun around, feigning surprise. "Dr. Wilson, good to see you!"

"What are you doing here?"

She paused. He didn't know? House tells him everything. "I'm...here with someone."

"Oh. Oh, sorry, this is my wife Julie."

She politely shook her hand, "It's a pleasure."

"Same." Forced cordiality. This woman knew to watch out gorgeous woman around her husband.

"Well, this is me." She picked up her popcorn and snowcaps, and looked for an escape route. "It was lovely seeing you both. Have a good night."

After she left, Wilson chuckled after giving his order to the clerk.

"What?" His wife asked.

Wilson had been House's friend long enough to know his favorite candy. "She's here with House."

Back in the theater, Cameron sat back in her seat, and handing House the box said, "I just met Julie Wilson."

"They're here? Oh Christ..."

"It's ok, I didn't tell him anything. Code of silence, remember?"

"Right, discretion."

After the movie, they left the theater spy-style, looking casually around, making sure Wilson was nowhere to be seen. They hopped on his bike and sped off, heady with conspiracy.

Cameron was always sleepy after going to the movies. She laid her head on House's back and closed her eyes, wondering if the evening really had to end so soon.

When they pulled up to her apartment complex, she was reluctant to go. She pulled off her helmet and handed it to him. "Thanks."

"No problem." He looked at a loss for words. "Tonight was...fun."

She smiled. "Third time's a charm."

"It would appear so."

She decided to just end the evening with a bang. She grabbed the collar of his leather jacket and pulled him into a goodnight kiss to end all goodnight kisses. It wasn't long and lingering, but it made it's point. A moment later she pulled back, leaving both of them breathless. She smiled at him, "I'd ask you up if I thought you'd say yes."

He took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. "That's probably not the best idea."

"I know." Her hand was still at his collar. She let go and let her thumb graze his lips as she brushed his check with her hand. "Another time, maybe. Thanks for a great night, Greg. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

She heard him rev and go only after she was safely inside her building. She leaned against the door and sighed. Sometimes she just wanted to jump him. The dating game was fun, but this was getting ridiculous.

Was it slutty to sleepover on a second date?


	3. Week 2

A/N: I just couldn't stop writing this chapter. It is very rough, but I wanted it to get to you guys before a year went by without me updating. I had stuff to write, and I did, and I didn't get a chance to do much more than that. So forgive mistakes, and know that I intend to elaborate, edit, cut, rework, blah, blah...

And btw, my hormones/emotions are a little haywire...so be nice in the reviews...because I'll cry if you're mean...and then House might die in the next chapter...and then you'll be sorry

At one time or another, all men need a little push, or pull, in the right direction.

Week 2:

He surprised her Monday morning. When she hung up her jacket and sat down to go through her mail, she noticed something sticking out from under her mouse pad. It was a ticket. To a play.

She flipped it over, and his familiar scrawl he had written- _I'll pick you up at 7:00. _She peeked over her desk and into his office, but he wasn't there.

He still wasn't there when Foreman and Chase wandered in later. And while she and the boys spent most of the morning perusing patients' files for cases that might interest House, he still didn't show.

Finally Cameron stood up and sighed. "If he isn't coming and we aren't doing anything, I'm leaving. Page me if you need me."

"Well if you're leaving," Chase piped up, "You wanna grab some lunch?"

"No, I'm not hungry. You guys go...I've got somewhere to be." She left the office and headed down to the children's ward.

Most of the kids here had families who visited them every day. There were balloons and teddy bears in pretty much every room. But one little boy rarely had any visitors. When Peter's foster mom did visit, she was usually in a rush and just checking that he had everything he needed or dropping off a toy or book for him.

So Cameron spent some of her lunches so physically drained from the chemo treatments. He always brightened though when she showed up.

"Hi, Pete!" She slid the glass door closed behind her.

He sat up and smiled. "Hey Dr. Ally!"

She opened up his blinds to let in the sunlight. "How are you feeling today?"

He shrugged. "I'm a little tired."

She felt his forehead. "Did you take a nap today?"

"Nope."

"Well, how about a before naptime story?"

His eyes lit up. "Can we read Peter Pan?"

"Sure. Do you remember what chapter we were on?"

"Uh huh," he mumbled, reaching under his pillow to pull out his copy of JM Barrie's Peter Pan, "Chapter five." Cameron had surprised him with it for his birthday last month.

"Alright, scootch over."

He did, and she settled down next to him. "Chapter five..." she skimmed through the pages. "Here it is. Chapter five, _The Island Come True. Feeling that Peter was on his way back, the Neverland had again woke into life. We ought to use the pluperfect and say wakened, but woke is better and was always used by Peter.._."

The little boy snuggled next to her, reading over her shoulder, trying to keep up with the words.

Wilson eventually found House, quite by accident, too, because he never actually thought to check in the clinic.

He found him with a patient, and too surprised to apologize for barging in, awkwardly asked where he had been.

"Working. Apparently that's what they pay me for."

"That's never convinced you to do anything before."

"Oh you're just jealous that I saved more lives than you last week. He turned to the patient. "Congratulations. You are officially the last person I have patience for today. You have strep. Go home and stop breathing on me."

He limped out of the exam room, and Wilson followed.

"Cuddy's been looking for you, which means she doesn't know you're here, which means she didn't drag you kicking and screaming to the clinic, which means you're here on your own. Doesn't that mean that the earth has started spinning the other way?"

"Once about every ten years I put in a good day's work, just to keep them guessing."

Wilson smiled. "Wow. It must have been a really good night."

House stopped dead in his tracks and turned. Not wanting to tip his hand, he simply said, "I don't have any idea what you're talking about

"I thought you said the Cameron phase was over."

"Yeah, well, she asked me out, and I didn't want to be rude. She's such a nice ass...I mean girl."

"Right, it meant nothing. That's why you hid it from me. Please. This was a big deal." He paused, then suspiciously added, "Did you sleep with her?"

"That's none of your business. But no." House should have expected this. Wilson had never mentioned walking in on the two of them That Day, until now.

Wilson considered him for a moment. "Come on. I want to show you something," and he wandered off, leaving House to follow.

The two took the elevator to the third floor. Once there, House followed Wilson to the most cheerfully depressing part of the hospital. He avoided it when he could. Not only were children everywhere, but the decor was nauseatingly colorful. Bizarre murals of animals and rainbows adorned every wall, old books and toys in every room.

Wilson stopped outside of one particular room, peering in, but remaining unseen by anyone in the room. House followed his gaze to the other side of the glass, and stared.

There was Cameron, or should he say, Saint Allison, mother to the world. A little guy, no more than five or six, was curled up against her, while she read from the book in her lap. He looked sick. And tired. Too tired for any child to look.

Wilson spoke and broke him out of his daydream. "She's the best you're going find out there, you know. If you're holding out for someone better, you're wasting your time. She's the kind of woman who you could build a life with. And not end up divorced a year later." He sighed, "believe me, I know."

House said nothing. It was all true. No matter how much he teased and berated her for her optimistic naivete, he knew she was special, and that he was a lucky man for her to have given him even a second glance.

"Plus there's the added bonus of her actually not thinking you're a bastard."

"There is that."

Inside the room, Cameron shut the book and slid it under the little boy's pillow. He crawled under the blankets and snuggled into bed as she turned off the florescent light and closed his shades. She smoothed his hair and said her goodbyes, as Wilson made his escape, before throwing over his shoulder, "Just don't screw this up, okay?"

House gave a resigned nod. Just as Wilson disappeared around the corner, Cameron softly closed the door behind her. When she noticed him, she was visibly surprised.

"House. Where have you been all day?"

"Oh you wouldn't believe me if I told you." He nodded toward the room she had just left. "Who's the kid?"

She looked over her shoulder sadly. "Leukemia patient, recovering, but slowly. He's a foster kid, never really gets any visitors. He's been here for a couple months."

"So you took him under your wing."

She shrugged, embarrassed. "I drop in to say hi sometimes."

He looked up and down the hallway, and seeing no one paying any attention to them, stepped closer to her.

"Thursday?"

She nodded, taking another unconscious step in his direction, "I'm free." She smiled. "I'm very proud of you, Dr. House. You actually asked me out without being bribed."

A hint of a smile darted across his mouth. She found herself staring at it, and she bit her own bottom lip, remembering their kiss.

"Maybe we should get back."

She smiled. "Yeah."

Neither moved.

"As fun as making out in an empty room would be, I really do think we should get back."

She sighed, and stuck her hands in her coat pockets. "Fine," she pouted.

He did smile then. "Come on."

Thursday brought thunderstorms. Sheets of rain fell outside Cameron's window, and inside, she sat by candlelight, painting her toes.

The power had gone out in her building a few hours ago, and she silently thanked god she hadn't gone grocery shopping lately. So after downing two chunky monkey milkshakes, she tossed everything perishable in her fridge and started to get ready for her date.

She skipped a shower, mildly afraid of being electrocuted and found naked, dead and soapy by House. As an afterthought, she changed her sheets and straightened up her apartment, sticking her treadmill under her bed and sticking candles around the rooms, ready to be lit, should she have an unexpected guest.

She settled on jeans, but paired it with a lacy red camisole top and a black jacket. She looked hot, but not overly primped.

A little after 7:00, she heard a honk and rolled her eyes. It's not like she wanted him to come out in the rain and knock on her door just to be traditional, but still. She pulled on her coat and grabbed her purse and umbrella, making sure their tickets were safely in her pocket before blowing out the last candle and flicking on her flashlight to navigate the dark hallway.

Once outside, she groaned at the humidity. 'Stupid New Jersey weather,' she thought. She popped up her umbrella for the quick sprint to the car, absolutely unwilling to look like a wet dog when he saw her.

Safely inside the car, she slammed the door behind her and turned smiling at the driver.

"We're going to need a canoe out there soon."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Only you could be cheerful about weather like this."

"My building lost power, are you sure the show wasn't cancelled?"

"Yep. Just called. The school has generators."

As they drove, she scanned the radio for something to listen to.

"No no no. I don't listen to static and commercials. Here." He tossed his iPod onto her lap unceremoniously.

She scrolled through the artists, then smiled. "Puccini?"

He shrugged. She plugged it in and flipped on a track from Madama Butterfly. She surprised him by humming along softly.

"An opera buff? I pictured you as more of an Enya freak."

She wrinkled her nose in mild disgust. "Nah." She was quiet for a minute, then added. "That's something that you can't find in my file. I didn't always want to be a doctor."

He considered her for a moment. "Music?"

"Um hmm."

"What did you play?"

She didn't answer right away. She seemed lost in thought. "I sang."

He glanced over at her, where she was gazing out the window, lazily twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

"So what happened?"

"Oh you know. I had to face facts. I was a better scientist than singer. I'd probably be a starving soprano somewhere in the village if I hadn't changed my mind."

Through the car's sound system, Pinkerton joined in a beautiful duet with Butterfly. House imagined Cameron on stage, made up beautifully, singing to a handsome tenor, adored by everyone who heard her. Somehow, that seemed like a better fit than spending her best years in a degrading position with him as her boss. Well, to each her own.

"So," she piped in cheerily, trying to change the subject. "What have you heard about this play?"

If someone had asked her what the play was even about, she'd probably only be able to mumble out the synopsis. She couldn't concentrate on anything but him. Her mind was too full. He looked too good.

When they pulled up in front of her building, a huge bolt of lightning tore through the sky and thunder shook the ground.

"Oh no. You are definitely not driving home in this. Come on. I'd offer you coffee..."

"Allison. If you want me to keep you company during the big scary storm, you just have to ask."

"You cannot drive home in this rain. If you don't hydroplane off the road, you'll probably be hit by a falling tree. I wouldn't tempt fate."

He peered out of the window, looking suspiciously at the power lines above them. He sighed. "Where do you want me to park?"

"Around back."

Once parked, he surprised her with a touching act of chivalry, bringing her umbrella around to her side of the car.

The whole block must have lost power. There were no streetlights on, no electric glows from inside windows. Cameron stuck her flashlight under her arm while she fumbled to unlock the door.

Inside, Cameron surprised him by passing the door to the stairs.

"The elevator will be out, you know."

She looked confused for a moment, then said "We don't have elevators. Oh. Right I changed apartments. I'm down here now. I've been waiting for the guy in the corner apartment to leave for months." What she left out, what she'd never mention, is that she'd been waiting for that apartment for as long as she knew House wasn't just a crush. She wasn't going to let him visit her in a third floor walk up.

"Come on. I'm right around the corner."

He shook off her umbrella and followed her inside. Without thinking, she flipped on the light switch. She shined the flashlight around her kitchen, looking for a box of matches, then she lit the candles along her kitchen counter.

"Let me have your jacket, I'll hang it up for you."

In the candlelight, he looked lost standing at the doorway. She smiled. "Would you try to look like it doesn't hurt to be here."

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "What can I do?"

"Umm..." She looked around. "Oh. The fireplace. There's a lighter right in front, just...light the kindling, It's already set up."

"Am I paying you too much?"

She chuckled. "All the corner apartments have them, but this one's the biggest." She kicked off her shoes and took them to her room. "I bribed my landlord to give it to me before my neighbor, even though he's been here much longer," she called in from her room. She pulled off her jacket and ran a comb through her hair. "He's a romance novelist. He does a lot of late night research. It was the last time I was gonna lose a night's sleep."

House grinned from the couch. "That's my girl."

She padded into the room, barefoot. Small flames were whipping around the logs in her fireplace. House lounged on the plush white sofa.

"Wine?"

He nodded, amused at her fluttering around the room, keeping busy. He got up and snuck up behind her as she poured two glasses of wine by the candlelight in her kitchen. He wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his hand on her stomach, sneaking his thumb under the silk of her top. He bent his head and kissed her bare shoulder.

"Greg." She closed her eyes and breathed his name as softly as a sigh. She turned in his arms to face him. "Kiss me."

He obliged. He kissed her hard, unyielding and forceful. It made her knees weak. When he did come up for air, she laughed softly.

"You know, I really just didn't want you to drive home."

"Uh huh. That's why you put candles everywhere. Set up a romantic fire." He left a trail of kisses down the side of her neck. "You minx."

"My power was out!" She protested weakly.

"And why did you put your best sheets on your bed?"

"How did you..." He gave her an amused look. "You jerk."

"Yeah, yeah." He caught her lips again.

She could kiss him for hours. He was just forceful enough, just gentle enough, to make her melt. She was hyper-aware of her body, his hands at her waist, his thumb sneaking under her shirt, his knee gently pressed between her legs. He finally broke for air, resting his forehead on hers as she sighed contentedly. Silently, she handed him a glass of wine and slinking hers against his, a smile playing on her lips. She took him by the hand and tugged him toward the fire.

He kissed her again. "Thanks for inviting me to your sleepover Dr. Cameron. I'm a having a super time."

She smiled. "Hold on. I'll be right back." She disappeared into her room and came back, arms laden with pillows, which she tossed on the floor and disappeared again to get two gigantic comforters. As she spread them out on the carpet, she said, "when I was little, every time my dad made a fire, I would fall asleep on the floor in our living room." She shrugged, self consciously. "I'd always want to toast marshmallows, but my mother said I'd get too sugared up and never go to sleep."

"She was probably right," he lowered himself down onto the heap of blankets and pillows on the floor, "but you're a grown up now. I won't tell anyone if you break out the marshmallows."

She laughed. "You know, I might have some somewhere." She wandered off into her kitchen in search.

Meanwhile, House got comfortable. He lay down with his head in his hands, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't remember a single time in his whole life he had ever thought of the woman he was seeing as sweet. Stacy had been sexy, and exciting, but never sweet. In fact, sexy and exciting had kind of been his MO, until this sweet little brunette with a heart three sizes too big. Maybe there was room enough for him.

"Ah ha!" Came her happy exclamation from the next room. "Found 'em!"

He let the slightest of smiles escape his lips, but just a tiny one.

Cameron came back with a bag, two shish kabob skewers and the rest of the bottle of wine. House up-ended the rest of his glass and held it out to her. "Free refills?"

She smiled and poured him another before filling hers back up too. She sat down and crossed her legs, ripping open the bag and pulling out two marshmallows. She handed him one stick and took the other for herself. "God, I haven't done this in years."

"Really? Wilson and I did this just last weekend. Told scary stories and everything."

She rolled her eyes at him and stuck her marshmallow in the fire, turning it just above the flame. House unceremoniously stuck his right into the flame, letting it catch fire and burn for a second or two before he blew it out.

Cameron watch incredulously. "House! That was the worst marshmallow toasting I've ever seen."

"Of course. I should have figured you to be the just-barely-scorched type." He poked his to test it before popping it into his mouth. "Perfectionist."

"Impatient child." She threw back, pulling her perfectly browned marshmallow out of the heat and blowing on it to cool it down.

He took a sip of his wine and considered her. "So you sang..."

She shrugged. "Mostly in high school. I got kind of...busy in college." She rolled her eyes. "I think my parents would have freaked if I had done it professionally." She laughed, sipped her wine and put her glass down by the fireplace. "What about you? You seem like the band geek type."

He groaned and closed his eyes. "Please don't say that."

She giggled, "No, really. I'll bet you had weird hair and everything."

He grabbed her around the waist and yanked her onto of him. "Take it back."

She laughed at him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, gliding her fingers into his hair and hugging him close. "No need to get so defensive Dr. House. Band geeks were way cooler in high school than we gave them credit for. It's okay to admit it."

He kissed her, half to shut her up, half because she was so close that he had to do something. He pulled away long enough to add, "I prefer introspective, brooding pianist."

She smiled against his lips. "Yeah, that does sound sexier."

He kissed her again, tasting sugar and wine. She moaned and bit his lip when he pulled her closer, if possible.

They took turns shedding their cloths, taking their time, making sure not a single inch of skin was left untouched. He liked going commando, she learned quite unexpectedly, and later she would realize she completely forgot to ask if his leg was alright. He didn't seem to mind.

They made love, on the floor, in a thunderstorm. She should have expected him to be unrelenting, and he certainly was. And he should have known she would tease him mercilessly, prolonging the sweet torture of her touch. They vied for control, each trying to outdo the other, a competition in who could make the other feel more alive. They should have expected that they would collide with the same friction that they always had.

She never went to sleep. She should have, she still had to work in the morning, but she couldn't will herself to close her eyes, even for a moment. He lay spent, tangled in her sheets, and she wouldn't miss the view for the world.


	4. Week 3

A/N I had abandoned fanfic during the school year. This was horrible of me, but college is really busy! And when I wasn't writing papers, I was drinking or sleeping. Not much time for creativity. But it's summer! And I'm back! And I found this which I had written a while back and I dusted it off and I'm putting it up for you. OOC? Yes. Cheese? Def. Also, I had a huge bandaid on my index finger while I was revising, so forgive any complete spastic mistakes.

Week 3

Gregory House sat, tapping his cane softly on the ground next to his chair. The air still felt damp from the heavy rains, but the sun was out and the sky was clear. It was a beautiful day, he had to grudgingly admit.

His mind wandered as he waited, sitting outside of a tiny restaurant on some tiny street in some tiny town he forgot the name of. His waitress offered him a smile and a refill, but his mind was lost, days ago.

Friday, in the early morning, he had awoken in an unfamiliar place. His sleep deprived brain couldn't process the yawning brunette next to him fast enough, and he groggily asked "Cameron?"

"Expecting someone else?" She laughed, mid-yawn.

He didn't answer then, he just rolled over and buried his head in a pillow. He lay there, half asleep as she lightly raked her fingers up his back and into his hair, over and over, resting her cheek on his shoulder as she lulled him back to sleep.

When he woke up again, sunlight was pouring in through Cameron's windows. He heard her humming softly in the kitchen.

He found his jeans and yanked them on, wandering in to her without his cane, unsure of where it had ended up the night before. When she saw him, she smiled brightly and kissed him soundly.

"We're going to be late," he mumbled into her neck, not really caring.

"You're going to be late." She grinned and kissed him again, "but I don't think that will arouse suspicion. I apparently caught a nasty bug last night and couldn't possible make it in today." She winked. "Or so Foreman will tell you when you get to work."

He gave her an appreciative smile. "You've thought of everything."

She raised her eyebrows. "There is one thing I needed to run by you though." She ran her hand down his chest and slid her hand inside of his jeans with a devilish grin. "What are your thoughts on sex before breakfast?"

A tap on his shoulder broke him from his daydream and brought him back to the present. He glanced over his right shoulder, where the tap had come from and saw no one. As he turned back around, his lips were met with Cameron's for a lingering kiss. She pulled back and smiled, sighing softly.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Sorry I'm late." She dropped her bag next to her chair and sat done, scootching her chair closer to his.

Unsure of how post-sex small talk differed from snarky coworker small talk he played it safe with a simple "Good weekend?"

"It was nice. My mom dragged us all to church on Easter, but it was ok, my sisters were there, and I hadn't seen them in a few weeks." She shrugged and looked down at her lap. "Sorry I had to leave. My family always gets together for Easter..."

"It's okay."

"I was kind of worried that if I left you alone all weekend, you'd over think everything and start to regret what happened." She rested her arms on the table, next to his, and let her knuckles graze his. "I'm glad you called."

He shrugged, uncomfortable. "They say it's what you do, after..." After fucking? Smooth.

She offered up a suggestion. "A night of mind-altering sex?"

It won her a small smile. "Yeah, something to that effect."

"So..." She held his gaze. "No regrets?"

He shook his head. "Nah, you're a pretty good lay."

She sighed, smiling. "I'm glad you think so."

Their waitress brought them coffee, interrupting them momentarily. When she left, House spoke again.

"I don't think either one of us doubted the sex would be good. But I need to know if that's all you want."

She furrowed her brow. "You want to know if you're being used for sex." It wasn't a question.

"I want to know..." He let out a frustrated breath. "If you really expect anything more than sex to work."

She smiled. "I knew leaving you alone was a bad idea."

"We're very different, Allison. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not the nicest. You'll probably regret..."

"What would I regret?"

"The abridged list?"

She sighed, annoyed. "I know you think I'm naive, and maybe in some ways I am. Personally, I prefer the term hopeful. But I don't enter into things blindly. I understand who you are, and I'm not asking you to change," she chuckled, "that would be pointless. And I wouldn't want you any different. In case you haven't noticed, I kind of like you. You aren't as much of a badass as you think."

"Shhh...people will hear."

She reached over and grabbed his hand in hers. "I get it, okay. This is weird for me too. But you promised you'd give it a shot."

He looked away, her eyes a little too all-knowing for his taste. What was it with this woman knowing exactly what to say? "I don't like not knowing what's going on."

"Well, I'll get you a big commitment-o-meter. Every day we'll chart our progress, ok?"

"Just to get this cleared up now, I'll be the one doing the mocking in this relationship."

She smiled. _Relationship_. It was a reassuring Freudian slip. "This isn't casual, ok?"

"I'll schedule us to pick out China patterns next Saturday, then."

"Sounds good. You can meet my parents tonight at dinner."

They both smiled, calling a silent truce. "Can we get out of here?"

"Yeah. Go home. Pack a bag. You're staying at my place tonight."

She gave an amused salute, "Yes sir!"

Back at her apartment, Cameron dumped out the laundry from her weekend and tossed clothes into her duffle bag. She tossed her hair up into a clip and smiled into the mirror, examining her neck and the slight bruise fading fast. Luckily, her sister was the only one to notice. That would have been classic. Explaining a hickey to her parents.

Condoms, condoms. He would have them at his place. Toothpaste? Probably could borrow his. She laughed. She had never had to do this. Pack an overnight bag. For a boyfriend's place.

Boyfriend. Gross. It sounded too...tenth grade. Lover? Too Harlequin. She simply couldn't see him on the cover of a paperback. There was no word to sum up their relationship. Were they seeing each other? That sounded too casual. Sleeping together sounded tawdry.

Undefinable, she thought, tossing a hairbrush into her duffle. It was fine with her.

When she knocked on his door a half hour later, she wondered absently if her undefinable boyfriend/lover/boss would ever give her a key.

He answered and before he had the chance to motion her in awkwardly, she planted a quick kiss on his cheek and brushed past him. "Mind if I toss my bag in your room?"

He shook his head no. She disappeared down the hall for a moment, returning with her hands behind her back. He had sat at the piano and was absently strumming his fingers soundlessly across the keys. He gave her a questioning look at the smile on her face.

She smiled even wider. "I believe I promised you a night of body shots..." she began, pulling a bottle of tequila out from behind her back. "I'd like to make good on that promise."

She set the bottle and two shot glasses down on the piano and put a hand on her hip. "Got any lemons?"

He nodded, a surprised grin on his lips. "In the kitchen."

Leaving him to stare at her retreating form. He considered the bottle, finally picking it up and muttering "Vamanos, Jose." He dropped onto the couch and poured two shots, when Cameron sauntered back into the room with a bowl of lemon slices and a salt shaker. "If anyone asks, we're starting at three in the afternoon to avoid hangovers tomorrow morning for work."

"Works for me." She closed his blinds and flipped on the lamp next to his couch. It was cloudy anyway, and the apartment went dark with the curtains closed.

She settle next to him, half facing him. "Here's the game plan. For every secret you tell me, I have to take a shot. And vice versa."

Groaning with mock annoyance, he rolled his eyes. "What are we, 12?"

"Relax, it gets really fun the more you drink."

"Yeah, that's usually how things work."

She ignored him, catching his wrist. "I'll go first." She licked the inside of his wrist and shook some salt over it. She smiled when his breath caught at the feel of her tongue on his skin.

She handed him a shotglass and a lemon wedge. "Are you ready for my secret?"

He nodded, amused.

She looked very serious, then said very slowly, as if she was explaining something very important. "I'm allergic to cats."

He tried not to laugh, only sighed at her mock earnestness. "No kittens for your birthday. Got it." He licked his wrist and downed the shot, ignoring the lemon and wincing at the delicious trail, burning its way down his throat.

"Your turn...tell me a deep, dark secret."

He thought for a moment, musing only momentarily on a fake secret. But since Cameron seemed to want a this to be some kind of post-sex icebreaker, he'd play along. "I tried to fire Chase." When she obviously didn't understand what he was talking about, he clarified. "When Voglar the Terrible rose to power. I had to choose and I chose you and Foreman. Chase is a good doctor. But you were better. But Chase had gone to Voglar for protection. It had nothing to do with my feelings for you. You were the better doctor."

He met her eyes for only a brief second. She smiled contentedly at him, before suddenly straddling him. His hands found her hips and she kissed his neck, whispering in his ear, "Thank you."

She tugged at the bottom of his soft cotton shirt. He obediently raised his arms as she yanked it off. Then she grabbed the salt shaker and dipped her head to land a kiss on his clavicle. Ever so slowly she licked his skin, then shaking the salt over his shoulder. She picked up her glass and lemon, quickly licking up the salt and upending the tequila down her throat, allowing him a nice view of her neck as she drank. He smiled when her nose wrinkled up and she bit down hard on the lemon.

He met her eyes and she smiled at him, "I've got a good secret."

He swallowed hard, recognizing her tone. "What's that?"

"When I first interviewed with you, I was scared out of my mind. I had heard about you, and I was worried. But I still knew you were the best." She leaned her forehead onto his and nuzzled his nose. "Do you remember what you said to me?"

"I said that you looked like you had lost your mummy and you should go find a nice policeman to help find her."

She smiled, "No, when I said that I wanted the position because I wanted to work the cases no one else could work."

He sighed. "I said that no one's motivation was that simple. You had to have some other reason for taking a fellowship as hard as yours. Then I said that I already had Wilson, and I didn't need anymore self-righteous doctors on staff."

"Yes." Smiling she added, "At that moment, I should have been pissed off and annoyed at you for being such an ass. I wasn't. I was intrigued. You were a puzzle. And even though I knew what working for you would be like, I took the job."

He drew a lazy circle on her back with his thumb.

"But that's not my secret. The secret is, that sitting there that day, answering obscene questions no one had ever asked me before, I knew I was going to fall for you. And I've never felt that way about anyone. I also knew that you were," she punctuated this with a kiss to his jaw, "the sexiest man," and one to his temple, "I had ever laid eyes on." She kissed him, snaking her tongue out to trace his lips, feeling them part and his own tongue meet hers. She found his soft lower lip between her teeth and she bit down, hearing him let out a groan as he pulled her closer in his arms. She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and plunged her fingers up the back of his neck into his hair, pulling him closer to her as she kissed him senseless. Then, she cruelly pulled back, flushed and breathing heavily. "You may not think so, but the first time I met you I wanted you. Do you know how hard it is to sit quietly during diagnostic brainstorm sessions and not jump you?"

He sought out her lips again, but she refused. "You owe me another drink." She reached behind her and grabbed the bottle, forgetting trivialities like glasses. He found the salt shaker between the sofa cushions. She tilted her head back and traced the line of her neck, but he shook his head. "You're wearing too much." She laughed at his gruff demeanor. He took the bottle from her as she pulled her top up over her head and reached behind herself to unclasp her deep green bra. Once bare-breasted and sitting in front of his face, she reddened under his appraising stare.

"You're beautiful," he mumbled, eyes not leaving her body. Before she could respond, he had her on her back on the sofa and was climbing between her legs. He kissed the skin between her breasts, then swirled a tongue around a nipple, feeling quite pleased with himself as she gasped and arched her back. He leaned back and poured salt onto her breast, and she shivered at the sting of the tiny crystals on her flesh. Then, in a flash he had licked it off and had upended the bottle and taken a few good chugs of the amber liquid. He clunked the bottle down onto the coffee table and returned to her mouth, warm and inviting.

"Want to know one of my secrets?" he said against her lips. Then with suspicious skill, he unbutton and unzipped her jeans with one hand, sliding his hand into her panties and between her wet folds. She moaned his name and dug her fingers into his back. "Since I met you, I have spent every free moment trying not to shove you against a wall," he pulled his fingers out of her and found the tiny bundle of nerves between her legs, "Or spread you out on my desk." He was rubbing circles in her clit and she was panting and arching against his hand.

"House...please..."

"Do you know how badly I've wanted to fuck you?" He punctuated the harsh word by slipping two fingers inside of her.

She cried out and threw her head back, exposing an expanse skin for him to kiss and lick. "Please...please."

He stilled before she could come for him. She moaned in protest, but he only leaned into her neck and whispered to her. "Now, I only want to take you to my bed and make love to you."

She let out a shaky breath and clung to him, pulling her arms tightly around him and breathing brokenly.

He stood up and pulled her with him, she ran the back of her hand along his stomach while she collected her breath, then she laced her fingers through his own and led him to his bedroom. They silently made their way down the hall, his uneven footfalls matching the tempo of her hips swaying in front of him.

Once there, she turned at his bed and looked at him nervously through her impossible wide eyes. He thought he would die. She reached a suddenly tentative hand up to his neck and the other around his back, skimming her fingers over his bare skin. He kissed her and wrapped both arms around her, pulling her against him and letting her feel just what she did to certain parts of him. She pushed him away long enough to pull off her jeans and panties, and then free him of his as well.

"My God, Allison." He let out an ungodly groan and buried his face in her neck, bucking his hips against her. She only responded with her own moaning, She grasped at his back, wrapping her legs around him and guiding him home.

She gasped at the sudden sensation of being filled with him. He gripped her waist hard and bit her shoulder, starting to move as she dug her heels into him and matched his rhythm, urging him to plunge deeper into her.

"You feel...so good." She bit his ear as he thrust into her. He found her mouth and kissed her soundly, roughly shoving his tongue into her mouth, to which she responded with equal intensity.

He thrust hard into her and ground his hips into hers, feeling, rather than hearing the sound she made. She tangled her fingers in his hair and roughly pulled him impossibly closer, tasting the bitter alcohol on his breath. She couldn't remember air, or her name. Just his tongue, his hands, and the delicious feeling between her legs, growing stronger with each thrust.

She broke free of his lips in time to breathlessly cry out his name as she came, and came hard. She writhed beneath him and he bit her neck as he felt himself getting closer to the edge. As he came, he slowed his movements, finding her mouth again and kissing her deeply, letting her ride out her orgasm painfully slowly, as he came inside of her with gentle precision.


End file.
